


We Love You Back

by Binary_Sunset



Series: Shipping Off to Boston [7]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: BU Professor Oliver, Berklee Student Elio, But mostly just comfort, Elio is 18, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Holidays, M/M, Meet the Family, Museum dates, Museums, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:44:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Binary_Sunset/pseuds/Binary_Sunset
Summary: Elio tries to help Oliver feel better after a disastrous first night of Hannukah with his family.





	We Love You Back

**Author's Note:**

> Hooby, this was a long time coming. Hope you fools still like it, though! I missed Hannukah this year because school really picked up (and it was hella early this year), but at least I was able to make the Christmas deadline.
> 
> Anyway, I have a fever and the only prescription is some holiday fluff. Enjoy!
> 
> Title from [Grenade Jumper](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPUBQukXhZQ) by Fall Out Boy.

Elio woke up next to Oliver. The man was still asleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath. Elio couldn’t help but to reach over and trace nonsense patterns into his chest.

Oliver groaned as he woke up. He looked at Elio and gave him a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leaned over and gave him a kiss, not worrying about his morning breath. “Are you doing alright?”

Oliver looked away. “Yeah, I’m alright. Probably won’t be answering my phone for a while.”

Elio cuddled closer to his boyfriend. “That’s fine. Do you wanna do something fun today? Take your mind off things?”

He couldn’t be sure of exactly what had happened with Oliver’s parents, but Elio did know that he needed all the support he could get. He’d never had to go through anything like that, thankfully. But he needed something to rely on, now that his family wasn’t an option.

He felt Oliver’s arms wrap around him. “Coffee first. Then we’ll talk.”

Elio gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll take breakfast. You go at your own pace, okay?”

Oliver nodded. “Thanks.”

Elio squirmed out of Oliver’s arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek before heading into the kitchen. He pulled out ingredients for French toast and started to beat the eggs for the batter. As he mixed, he looked over towards the bedroom.

He wondered if Oliver was as okay as he was letting on. His family had rejected him. Even if Elio was hazy on all the details, he knew that well enough. He’d been expecting it, had dreaded the moment he knew it would happen, but Elio doubted that would take the pain away entirely.

He thought about his own parents, as he started to make the toast. Elio knew he was lucky to have parents who understood and accepted him, who were willing to talk and treated him like the adult he was rather than the child they probably wished he still was. He couldn’t fathom growing up without parents who were always his allies, who always tried to understand him even if he was just being stupid. Oliver deserved that, probably more than Elio did.

And instead, Oliver was born to parents who treated him as little more than a trophy and were willing to cut him out if he didn’t meet their standards.

He’d grown up to be a much better man than they deserved.

Or, that’s what Elio thought, at least. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so blinded by their own prejudices that they couldn’t see what a wonderful son they had. God, if he’d been there that night, if he’d seen how they’d treated Oliver…

No, no need to get worked up about the past. He couldn’t control that. Oliver was  _ his _ now, and he wanted to make sure he knew how much he was loved.

Oliver walked in and started up the coffee maker. He still looked just as groggy as before, but he still smiled when he looked at Elio. “What’s for breakfast?”

“French toast. But we’re all out of the good syrup.”

Earlier that week, Oliver had showed Elio the wonders of actual maple syrup, which apparently is actually made with tree sap. It was a secret that New England had somehow hid from him for the past four months, and it was fantastic.

Oliver made a face. “Ugh, we just have the fake shit leftover, don’t we?” He groaned. “If I were less broke, I’d buy it all the time. Or maybe someday we’ll buy a house with sugar maples in the yard and make our own.”

Now that caught Elio’s attention. Oliver had never really hinted at any sort of long-term future. He wanted to brush it off as a side effect of the man having just woken up, or some sort of half-hungover slip of the tongue, but it felt important, somehow. Especially with the way it made Elio’s face flush.

He flipped over the piece of toast and looked over at Oliver, who was sipping a fresh cup of coffee. “You want to buy a house with me?”

The man’s face turned red. “I mean I don’t…  _ not _ want to. Obviously I don’t want to do it until you’re ready, or… at all, really if you’re not interested.” He sighed and took a sip from his coffee. “I don’t know. Every day I’m slipping closer to thirty, and I feel like I should be in a different place than I am. And I’ve been thinking about… our future and stuff.” He put the mug down. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

Elio put the newly-cooked slice of French toast onto Oliver’s plate, piling it with the other two. He walked over to Oliver and put the food down in front of him. “I’m not mad. I’m…” God, what word did you use when your boyfriend wants to become a homeowner with you? “...flattered, really. I just… You know, you never really…” He took a breath, trying to get the words out. Why was it so hard to explain how he was feeling? “You never said we were, like, officially a thing or anything like that so I just thought… I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting it.”

Oliver looked at him, blankly, mug in hand. “I never did, did I?” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything. If you want to back up and keep things casual I can--”

Elio felt himself laugh. After everything they’d been through together, Oliver still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be partners? He walked over and put his arms around Oliver’s waist. “Hey, last I checked, you were the one who wanted to keep things casual.” Elio pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “I told you I love you last night, and I meant it. You just kind of blindsided me with all this.”

Oliver took a breath and sat down, wriggling out of Elio’s grip. “Okay. Maybe we should, like, talk about this.”

Elio walked over to the stove and grabbed a coffee and a plate of French toast. “Do you want to talk right now?”

Oliver pushed his French toast around, trying not to make eye contact with Elio. “I wasn’t expecting to be single at 26. If you’d asked me where I thought I’d be by now a few years ago, I would’ve told you I’d be married to Ari and had two kids. So this is… well, it’s a little different.”

“Do you still want kids?”

Oliver paused for a second and then nodded. “I love kids.” He took another beat. “I mean, we don’t have to have kids if you don’t want them, I guess, but… I mean—“

Elio held up a hand to cut him off. “No, it’s fine. I love kids too. Just… it’s hard to think about that sort of thing right now. I don’t even have a stable career, what the hell would I do with a kid?”

“I understand. I’ve kind of kicked that can down the road too, honestly.  So I can wait until you’re ready. I’m not even sure I’m ready, if that makes sense.”

Elio finished up his meal. “No, that makes plenty of sense. You’re still figuring things out. I am too.” He grabbed his own empty plate and gestured to Oliver’s. “You done?”

“Not yet.” He took a couple more bites as Elio filled up the dishwasher.

“What about you?” He came back over and took a seat next to Oliver. “If you hadn’t met me, what would you be doing right now?”

Oliver took a second to think. “Probably still dating around. Though, I guess if I’d found someone my age, I’d probably start looking for a bigger place. Maybe get a dog.”

Elio looked around, trying to imagine a lab or even something as small as a chihuahua running around.It just didn’t quite work. “Does your lease even allow for a dog?”

“No. It’ll let me have a cat, though.” He thought for a moment. “I’ve never actually had one before, but I guess they’re a lot more suited to city life.”

Elio shrugged. “My family travels too much to ever have any pets. Though, I’ve met some stray cats in Greece, and I think they’re pretty neat. We could watch that cat training show, see if we’re ready for one.”

“So does that mean we’re officially exclusive now? I mean, getting a pet together is kind of a big deal.”

Elio had to take a moment to reflect on that. Good god, we’re they officially a couple now? Elio had always had the feeling that Oliver would grow bored of him and get together with someone his own age. But Oliver had left his family… for Elio? Because of Elio? Or did Elio have nothing to do with it at all? Oliver had also let Elio meet his best friend, who also happened to be his ex-wife. Which probably wasn’t something you did if you just wanted to mess around.

Did Elio just want to mess around?

No, of course not. Despite having Oliver’s permission to see other people, Elio hadn’t even thought of dating anyone other than Oliver since they met. And he’d told Oliver he’d loved him last night.

Putting a label on it still felt a little odd, but…

“Yes. I want you to be my partner,” Elio decided.

Oliver’s face flushed bright red. He put a hand to Elio’s cheek. “Are you… are you sure?”

“I told you I love you.” He tilted his head and pressed a kiss to Oliver’s palm “And I meant it. I really do.”

Oliver’s eyes started to water. “Oh. I just thought…” He took his hand away from Elio and wiped a tear from his eye. “Don’t worry about what I thought. I’m… more than happy to call you my boyfriend.”

Elio smiled and tucked a piece of hair behind Oliver’s ear. “Now that we’re officially boyfriends, I actually had somewhat of a day planned.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“I was thinking we could go to the MFA and then come back and light the candles.”

“That would be lovely, actually.”   


 

* * *

 

The ride to the museum on the T was crowded, as usual, but Elio loved the excuse to get close to Oliver. His body was so warm and solid and he would always nonchalantly drape one arm over Elio’s chest. Elio wasn’t sure if Oliver was doing it intentionally, but he fucking loved it. It was only about half an hour and the train was far too loud for them to have a full conversation, but Oliver’s hands just felt so right on his body.

Once the train pulled into the station by the MFA, Oliver had helped Elio up, keeping a guiding hand at his waist.

“I’ve never actually been here before,” Elio admitted, as the two of them walked from the train stop to the museum entrance.

Oliver snorted. “I teach Greek history in Boston. I’ve been here way too many times.”

“Must know the place well, then.” Elio slipped his hand into Oliver’s back pocket. “Will you show me your favourite exhibits?”

Oliver bumped his boyfriend's shoulder. “Of course! There’s some great Ancient Greek stuff in their collection.”

Elio chuckled. “You  _ would _ know about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t make fun of me, it’s literally my job to know about that sort of thing.”

They made their way to the entrance and were immediately greeted by a massive marble sculpture of Orpheus, harp in hand, accompanied by the three-headed dog, Cerberus. Elio had to crane his neck just to meet the statue’s gaze.

“Do you know anything about the guy who sculpted this?” Elio asked.

Oliver laughed. “This statue was made in 1843, which is a couple thousand years after my area of expertise. Though I  _ could _ tell you a bit about Ovid, if you want to hear about it.”

Elio rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard _ plenty _ from my dad. Maybe someday I’ll sit in on one of your lectures, though.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Oliver said as he made his way towards the ticket station. “Though, between you and me, I’m not sure I’d be able to pay attention to my own lesson, knowing you were out there with my other students. And probably checking me out the whole time, too.”

Elio shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? I’m a man of simple pleasures.”

Oliver pressed a few buttons, scanned his member ID, and printed out a couple of tickets for himself and Elio. They left their coats at the coat check and made their way into the museum proper.

Elio turned to Oliver. “Now, I’ve never been here, so you’re going to have to help me find the things you like.”

“Alright.” He reached down and gripped Elio’s wrist. “Come with me. I want to show you my favourite place in the world.”

Elio gave his boyfriend a smile. “Lead the way, then.”

Oliver lead him through a few galleries, his gait so quick and giddy that Elio had a bit of trouble keeping up. As they got to the end of a hallway, Oliver suddenly stopped short.

“Look up.”

He was about to question Oliver, since the command was a bit strange. But when Elio looked to him for an answer, all he did was point upwards. So Elio followed his directions and was speechless.

The entire ceiling of the rotunda was covered in intricate murals, each depicting a different scene from Greek mythology.

“Oh my god.”

Elio darted to the centre of the room, leaning his weight on the railing to try and get a good look at each one. “Okay, okay. I’m seeing Prometheus, Icarus, Perseus…” He turned to Oliver. “Are Achilles and Patroclus somewhere?”

“No, he only did a young Achilles with Chiron. It’s up there, to the right.” Oliver pointed towards the staircase on the other side of the room. “Though there’s Ganymede up in that circle, if you’re looking for gay shit.”

Elio laughed and poked Oliver in the chest. “I’ve got all the gay shit I need right here.”

Oliver chuckled and ruffled Elio’s hair. “Though, technically, it’s all gay shit. Sargent was a notorious queer.” Elio felt Oliver’s hand drift downwards, gently gripping the side of his hip. “It’s one of the reasons I love coming here, honestly. Here’s a notoriously gay man adapting an unabashedly gay religion… It makes you feel like you’re part of something so much larger.”

Elio leaned into Oliver. “So which one is your favourite?”

Oliver hummed. “I love them all, but I think Perseus is my favourite.” He gripped Elio’s hand and pulled him closer to the mural on the ceiling. “I love the design of this Medusa, and the colour scheme with all that gold leaf is just so beautiful. I mean, all of Sargent’s stuff is gorgeous.” He flushed. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

Elio laughed. “You’re a professor, and you’re in a museum. It’s the best place for you to be dorking out about this stuff.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day was spent in the Art of the Americas wing, with Oliver telling Elio about the local Boston artists represented there. Most of them weren’t familiar to Elio, but hearing Oliver talk passionately about them and their work was enough to keep his attention. Oliver was one hell of a speaker, even attracting an occasional listener just from the way he held himself and the information he presented. It didn’t surprise Elio in the slightest, considering Oliver’s line of work, but he still found it impressive. Elio was a talented musician, sure, but drawing attention with just the sound of his voice had always been a skill that eluded him. And yet here was Oliver, with his clear voice and scholarly charisma, proving himself to be absolutely hypnotic.

He’d even held Elio’s hand once, when he’d brought him to the Boston Impressionists gallery, and continued to hold it while admiring the seascapes of the North Shore.

By the time they’d left the museum, it seemed like whatever awful things Oliver experienced had completely washed away. It made Elio feel good, knowing that he’d helped out to some degree.

As they waited hand-in-hand at the T stop, a few snowflakes started to drift downwards. Elio leaned against Oliver’s chest. “I’ve got one more surprise for you once we get home.”

“You really didn’t have to do all this for me, you know.”

Elio shrugged. “You had a hard time last night. I figured you deserved some nice things.” He bumped Oliver’s shoulder. “Besides, this one won’t cost us any money.”

“I like the sound of that.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

They eventually got back to Oliver’s apartment, after a crowded rush-hour T ride. By then, the storm had started enough in earnest that Elio’s converse were soaked through. They hung their jackets on the hooks by the door and let the snow melt away.

“Do you want to break out the candles?” Elio asked. “I don’t know where you keep them.”

Oliver left the room, presumably to find his candles and menorah. Elio took the opportunity to text his dad.

_ Elio Perlman: hey are you free to facetime soon? _

_ Samuel Perlman: Of course! Have you done the candles yet? _

_ Elio Perlman: not yet but I wanna surprise oliver _

_ Elio Perlman: like I told you hes a big fan _

_ Samuel Perlman: Has he been doing alright? I know you were worried about him visiting his parents. _

_ Elio Perlman: yeah we went to the museum _

_ Elio Perlman: i think hes doing a lot better _

_ Elio Perlman: hes also gonna freak out when he sees you lol _

Oliver walked in, having grabbed the menorah from where he kept in the the bedroom closet. “Hey, can you grab the candles? They’re in the bottom drawer over there.”

Elio walked over to the drawer and took out the candles and a lighter. “Here we are.”

They set up the menorah and put on three candles: the shammes in the middle and then one for each night on the right. They sand the prayers together, and Elio took the opportunity to lean against Oliver’s side as they watched the candles burn down.

He loved the fact that this was something they shared. Growing up in Italy and, even during the school year when his family lived in England, he hardly ever saw another Jew. And now, basking in the glow of the fire, celebrating their ancestors overcoming tyranny. It felt like there was something deeper between them than just a few shared months.

“So, about that surprise,” Elio finally said as the candles started to burn down.

“Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that. What did you have in mind?”

Elio leaned his head onto Oliver’s shoulder. “Do you want to meet my dad?”

“Yeah, of course I want to meet your parents, why wouldn’t I…” He flushed. “Oh shit, I keep forgetting that your dad is Samuel  _ freaking _ Perlman.” Oliver looked down at his outfit. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just jeans and a thick Bruins fleece, but he seemed suddenly dissatisfied with it. “Oh my god, I can’t meet Samuel Perlman in this! Give me a minute to change.”

Elio laughed. “Alright, alright. But it’s not a big deal if you--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Oliver had disappeared into the bedroom.

Elio rolled his eyes and started a Facetime call with his dad. It was about four in the afternoon in Palo Alto, but dad said he’d be able to video chat.

Soon enough, his father answered the call. The phone screen switched to a view of Samuel and Annella Perlman in their hotel room, both wearing the same summer clothes they wore at the villa. It gave him a pang of nostalgia as he remembered lazy summers spent in the Italian countryside. Perhaps he would have to bring Oliver over next year.

“There’s my Elly-Belly!” Annella greeted with a smile. “And where is your Oliver?”

Elio felt his face flush. “He’s… changing, actually. He heard I was calling you guys and wanted to throw on something nice for Dad.”

Samuel let out a laugh. “Well, if I knew he was going to all that effort, I would’ve changed in to something more scholarly.” He sighed. “But, I’m not speaking at the conference today, so your mother and I went sightseeing instead. It’s been quite a while since we’ve visited our old stomping ground.”

“It looks warm there. I hate you.” Elio picked up the phone and switched to the back camera so he could get a good shot of the snow accumulating outside. “Look at all this! It never snowed like this back in Rome!”

He could hear his father chuckling warmly on the other side of the video call. “I suppose not. It was always exciting when we even got a flurry.”

“Yeah…” He flipped the phone back so his parents could see his face. “I’ve started to like Boston the longer I’ve been here. It’s so beautiful. I can’t imagine what it’ll look like once everything is covered in snow.”

There was a brief moment of silence in the air. Elio knew his parents had been worried about him moving to the States on his own, especially Boston. The all still had American citizenships, but they travelled around Europe so often for his father’s work that they rarely ever went home for longer than a few weeks. And when they were in the States, it was almost always in California, where they had a house near San Francisco. Aside from the occasional layover, the East Coast had always been a mystery to him, but he couldn’t help himself once he got accepted into Berklee. He knew it would be hard, but when an opportunity like that came around, you don’t take it lightly.

And then Oliver padded into the living room, having changed into a pale blue collared shirt and slacks. Elio always figured he dressed too hetero: there was no hint of style or glam in any of his apparent work clothes. Hell, the slacks weren’t even cut to show off his ass. He reminded himself to take him out shopping, at least so he could teach him how not to dress like like a forty-five year old uncle at Easter service. And to go out shopping for a proper skincare regimen.

Elio noticed him tense up once he was finally within view of the phone screen. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea; he’d forgotten how easily Oliver could get nervous. But it was too late to tell him to turn back now.

Oliver nervously adjusted his shirt cuffs and walked over beside Elio, wrapping an arm around his waist. He was pointedly avoiding the screen, instead opting to look over at his boyfriend. Elio could feel his hand shaking.

Elio took a breath. He shouldn’t have been worried; Oliver was absolutely lovely, and he was the type of person his family would get along with swimmingly. Hell, if Oliver was one of Samuel’s PhD students, Samuel would’ve invited him to the villa in a heartbeat. But Oliver’s nerves were contagious. What if Elio had misjudged everything? What would they think of him dating a divorcé nearly a decade older than him?

“This is Oliver,” Elio said, his voice shaking. “I wanted you to meet him last night, but he was at a family dinner pretty late.”

Both Perlmans exchanged looks, before Annella finally spoke. “How are you doing? Elio mentioned things were a bit difficult for you last night.”

Elio felt Oliver tense up. “Better now. Your son has been one of the best things to happen to me in a while.” He let the unspoken plea to let them keep seeing each other hang in the air.

“You know, Oliver,” Samuel started, “our son has been struggling quite a bit since he started school. Not only was he moving to an unfamiliar city, he was also a continent away from many of the friends he made in high school.”

Oliver’s hand on Elio’s hip became so tight, he was worried it might bruise.

“But,” Samuel continued, ”ever since he mentioned that you were seeing each other, I’ve noticed a change in him. It’s like he’s come back to himself. I can’t pin that wholly on you, of course, but having you in his life has helped immensely. You have my blessing, if it means anything to you.”

Oliver’s hands immediately went to cover his face. “Oh my god,” he breathed into his hands. “Oh my god, you have no idea… Like, I read your books. I think I wrote you a fan letter once.”

Samuel laughed. “I thought your name sounded familiar! I’m no rock star, Professor Cohen. It’s not every day I hear about someone changing the topic of their thesis because of my writing.”

Elio gave his boyfriend a playful punch in the arm. “You didn’t tell me you wrote my dad fan mail!”

“Agreeing to this phone call was a mistake,” Oliver muttered.

“I remember that,” Annella cut in. “That letter was so heartfelt and well-written, Oliver. There’s no need for you to be ashamed of it.”

“Oh, it was lovely,” Samuel agreed. “You really do have a way with words, Oliver. You should consider publishing a book yourself. Perhaps even a memoir.”

“Not sure who’d want to hear about my shitshow of a life,” Oliver muttered.

“I would,” Elio said, leaning against his shoulder. “I’d want to hear about all the crazy shit you used to get up to in your younger years. And about that mysterious young man who swept you off your feet and healed your heart after you got divorced.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Now I know where he gets it from.”

“We’re not joking, Oliver,” Annella said sternly. “You’re a very talented and intelligent young man, and we’re happy you’re in Elio’s life.”

That seemed to be the final blow that shattered Oliver’s fortitude. He was suddenly silent as he slumped back onto the couch.

Elio paused the call and put the phone down. He walked over to him, slowly, as if he was a startled deer. “Oliver?”

“This wasn’t…” Oliver wiped his eye. “I’m not used to this.”

Elio took a seat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “Used to what?”

“Compliments, people seeming to genuinely like me. It’s…” He took a breath, as if trying to will away his tears. “Overwhelming.” Oliver took a few more breaths before finally steadying himself. “Okay. I’m good.”

Elio smiled at him. “It’s okay if you’re not, you know. My parents… they’re not gonna, like, chew you out for crying.” He gave Oliver a kiss at the cheek. “You’ve been through a lot. No one would fault you for not being fully healed yet.”

Oliver buried his head into Elio’s shoulder. “You’re gonna make me fucking cry again, you know that?”

Elio smiled and ran his fingers through the man’s hair. “No, but I’ll still be here once you’re done.”

It took Oliver a moment to recuperate, blotting his eyes with a tissue and fixing his hair. But once he was finally done, he gave Elio his consent to continue the call.

Oliver mostly kept quiet while Elio chatted with his parents, carefully avoiding anything that might trigger another emotional response. Instead, they talked about their day at the museum, winter in the city, what other plans they had before going back to school.

Elio noticed how easily Oliver seemed to slot into his family. He could keep up with any academic topic Annella or Samuel brought to the table and would readily crack the occasional joke whenever he had the opportunity.

He wondered how Oliver would handle summer at the villa. Elio hoped there would be more of this: playful banter and academic conversation, woven around each other so seamlessly. This was the sort of family Oliver deserved: people who loved him and cared for him, who accepted him immediately despite everything in his past.

Elio slipped his hand over to Oliver’s, just out of frame of the video call. His work here was done.

**Author's Note:**

> Works of art mentioned in this fic:  
> [orpheus](https://www.mfa.org/collections/object/orpheus-and-cerberus-40809)  
> [perseus](https://www.mfa.org/collections/object/perseus-on-pegasus-slaying-medusa-32218)  
> I'd link the Singer-Sargent murals, but the MFA website is being very rude.
> 
> Here are [my social media](https://linktr.ee/Binary_Sunset)


End file.
